No attack came, no demands or even conversation. The soldier of the Order simply stood there, observing me through the slits in his shining helmet, tall, wide shouldered body rigid and observant.

I glared back, beginning to feel like a rat in a glass box, hating the trapped knot of anxiety in my stomach. I'd embraced the peace Creator's heart offered but old habits die hard. It was far easier to return to the familiar anger I used as my shield ...